“You curse my love, and you cannot live without it. We will see! we will see! I will never again appear before you until you summon me.”
“I would sooner call a demon.”
“You may call him, I am not jealous.”
“Go then! quit me.”
“Be it so,” said the toreador. “I depart, and go to Lucia del Salto.”
Marisalada was very jealous of this woman, a dancer, whom Pepe had courted before he knew Maria.
“Pepe! Pepe!” screamed Maria, “traitor! add perfidy to insolence.”
“That,” said Pepe, without moving, “that will not make me do but what I choose. You are too grand a lady for me. If then you wish that we get along well together, it must be that every thing is done as I wish. I will command, and you obey. You have enough of dukes, ambassadors, and serene excellencies at your feet.”
So saying, he made some steps towards the door.
“Pepe! Pepe!” called Maria, tearing in pieces a mantle richly garnished with lace.